Non-Due Date

Today's post is a very personal one for me. I have debated whether or not to even publish it. I think I always knew I would, but it was easier to write when I convinced myself that I may be the only one who ever reads it. I am hoping that by sharing this side of me, others who have gone through this will see a part of their own story. And for those of you who haven't, maybe it will give you a bit of a glimpse of what it feels like to miscarry.

Today is my- should have been - my due date. It is here and I have nothing to show for it but a broken heart. I am so grateful for the two amazing children that I have, but that doesn't diminish the loss I feel for the baby I don't have. Right now I should be in a hospital bed cooing over little fingers and toes. I should be picking baby names and wondering how I am going to fit three car seats in our small car. I should be exhausted over sleepless nights and balancing children. I should be sending out birth announcements and picking a blessing outfit. I should be looking forward to first steps and first words.

Instead I find myself dwelling on what will not happen. I guess I should just get over it. But I can't. I don't know if I ever will. I think something like this stays with you forever. I hope so. I never want to forget the little one that I lost.

I often find myself pondering why. Why did this baby not make it? Was there something wrong with how it formed? If I get pregnant again will it be the same spirit or another one? Was that the only chance that spirit gets to come to Earth? Was the spirit already present at 14 weeks? Was it something I did? I did have two incidents RIGHT before. I have been assured that it was nothing that I did/didn't do that caused this. But I am not convinced.

I know so many women who have gone through this and I am so sorry for every one of them. Every time I hear that someone has lost a pregnancy my heart just breaks for them. I can't help but cry. It has been six months and sometimes it is still so raw. I am still jealous when I hear that another woman is pregnant. It doesn't hurt like it used to. But it does still hurt. At least now I am to the point where I can be genuinely happy for them, rather than just pretend like I am.

For me, this has been and overwhelming and emotional experience. I always thought that if I had a miscarriage that I would be logical about it. That miscarriages happen because the body is simply getting rid of an non-viable fetus. How stupid I was. How naive. I didn't take into account how torn apart it would make me feel. How empty. How lonely. As I have struggled these last few months with trying to get back to normal, I have realized that I will never be 'normal' again. I have had to find a new 'normal'. In many ways that is a good thing. I am more compassionate and understanding. More grateful of the two little guys I have been blessed with. More aware of how lucky I am, and what is really important to me. More appreciative of my husband's arm around me and his kind words.

As I sit here and type this, there are tears in my eyes for what I have lost, and for what I have gained. Hopefully, someday, I will have another child, but even if I don't, I have already been blessed so much. It seems so selfish to ask for anything more.

random crying

Today has been a very hard day. I know I haven't talked about much but this miscarriage has completely turned my life upside down. Church is the hardest. So many babies and pregnant women. I just dread going. I keep thinking that I have things under control and that I am getting over it only to start crying all over again. I sat there during the whole RS lesson (which was on hope) and just bawled. Mind you that we have only been in this ward a few weeks and I don't know anyone. So everyone is looking at me like 'who is this crazy lady?'. During the RS lesson one sister said spoke up about her miscarriage being a low point in her life and that totally resonated with me. I felt like I needed to let her know what I was going through. I went up to her after class and we just cried and bonded over what never was. It sucked. It was great. She then came to my house in the evening and brought me this beautiful poem and a picture of Christ cradling a tiny baby. We talked for a long time. Crying for a lot of it. It is just so nice to feel like other people really understand what I am feeling. I know a lot of women who have gone through this and I never had any idea of how hard it was. I have so much more admiration for anyone who has had a miscarriage. I always thought if it happened to me I would be logical and unemotional. Uh, yeah. Not so much. It isn't like I am a total wreck all of the time. I'm not. But anytime I tell someone who doesn't know I totally break down. I think that it is okay. I think that I need to be okay with random crying. Maybe I will become better at appreciating how blessed I am. "Come What May, and Love It."